


Not so Innocent Meanderings

by hellostarlight20



Series: Together [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Romance, prompt, strongly rated T
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6955543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/pseuds/hellostarlight20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's dinner and idioms and moonlight meanderings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not so Innocent Meanderings

**Author's Note:**

> @thedoctorofsteel requested both #13 and #15: “Kiss me” and “So I found this waterfall”. I decided to combine the two. May be read as a loose sequel to my previous prompt fic, [_Meant to_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6944473)

Rose hummed appreciatively. “You’re right; this is the best chocolate cake.”

Whatever possessed her to demand a romantic dinner with plenty of wine and chocolate cake, she thanked that impulse. Or maybe it was her poor choice of wording. Either way, go her! The Doctor sat beside her at the small, intimate, table for two on YaVirlin III overlooking a stunning vista of plants with stunningly enormous flowers and a sunset made for romance.

It was a damn shame this wasn’t a romantic dinner. No matter how she wished otherwise, or how she asked or what she asked for, this was not a romantic dinner. Or outing. And that was a very damned shame.

Still…

“Can we explore the gardens?” Rose asked, taking the last bite of chocolate cake and holding it out for the Doctor.

What was that about this not being a romantic dinner? But the way he watched her throughout the meal made it hard to remind herself of that. And no use thinking about certain hardness—oh, was that her mind in the gutter? Why yes, yes it was.

Eh, she was happy there with her gutter fantasies of she and the Doctor. Hmm, that was weird. Rose tilted her head even as she met his gaze, that hard (there was that word again) look that made her wonder if her gutter fantasies (some were very dirty after all, maybe she’d keep the word if not the imagery) were all one sided.

The Doctor stared at her, but shook his head not so much as looking at the decadent morsel. Which surprised Rose, given his preoccupation with sweets. Or not, given he’d watched her with that same look all during dinner.

She shrugged and slipped the larger-than-she-was-used-to two pronged fork into her mouth. No, she wasn’t imagining the way the Doctor’s eyes followed that movement, was she. That flutter of awareness danced through her again, a near constant tingle of anticipation she felt these days. 

Well, if she were honest, since about their third trip in the TARDIS.

Nothing like falling in love with your traveling companion who barely saw you as—as what? Beautiful? Sure, Rose loved hearing that but it wasn’t important to her. She had a mirror; she knew what she looked like.

Barely saw her as what? Intelligent? That wasn’t true; he wouldn’t travel with her otherwise. Only the best, wasn’t that what he said?

She looked down at her empty plate and frowned. Barely saw her with any sort of attraction. Maybe that was it. But then why did he look at her like she was the only creature on the face of any planet who caught his interest?

Rose cleared her throat. “I’d love to hike the trail to the lake,” she said instead.

Meeting his gaze again, Rose’s heart skipped a beat. Oh. She licked her lips, tasted the chocolate cake and wine from their meal, and wondered what the Doctor’s lips tasted like. If she leaned just a little, no more than a quarter meter—

“Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait for her ascent, merely held out his hand and helped her stand. She wore flats, of course, prepared for anything, her. But they weren’t exactly hiking-flats. Then again, did it matter? She ran in all sorts of shoes. Walking with the Doctor through the rainforest of YaVirlin III was a piece of cake.

And why, oh why did her mind slip into idioms she didn’t understand? Piece of cake? Seriously, what did that mean? How was a piece of cake easy? Did the originator actually make a cake and slice off a piece of it?

Same with easy as pie—clearly whoever thought that one up had never burnt her (or his) way through a half dozen banana cream pies over the course of the years she traveled with the Doctor. Easy as pie her arse.

Damn it! There was another one.

Rose cleared her throat and pushed her idiomatic thoughts away. She brushed her thumb across the back of his hand grinned at the Doctor as they walked out of the restaurant. The sun set over the trees, and for a moment she wondered if hiking through the rainforest in flats, comfortable though they were, at nighttime was the best idea.

“YaVirlin III has two moons,” he whispered as they exited the parking grounds and made their way toward the trail. “Both of them full tonight, a rarely that happens once every seventy years. Shines enough light on the planet to see by. We’ll be fine.”

Had she said that last part aloud? Rose didn’t think so, but then who knew? The wine had been very dark and very good and she drank a little more than wise, perhaps. Or maybe just enough. Too early to tell yet.

“Tell me about the flowers?” Rose asked.

And if her head found its way to his arm as they walked hand-in-hand along the surprisingly well laid out path, neither commented. Or objected. Or moved away for that matter.

The Doctor rambled about this flora and that fauna that used the flower as its home or nesting place, or to feed its young. Bees from Melissa Majoria loved the nectar here and used it to keep their queen happy.

“What, seriously?” Rose asked but didn’t move. Their hike was more a meander and she was all right with that. “Earth bees aren’t from Earth?”

“Well,” he said in that long, drawn out way he had. “Not all of them. Most are, but your little blue planet has a lot to offer other-worlders.”

“Hmm,” she said and squeezed his hand. “Apparently we do.”

“Yup!” It lacked his usually enthusiasm.

When Rose pulled back to see his face in the strong moonlight, the Doctor looked down at her with that soft smile. The one that made her heart flip then beat triple time in her chest. The one that made her forget there were other beings in the universe beside the two of them.

“Ohh, look!” he said and tore his gaze from hers.

And Rose knew it was a feat, because he almost immediately looked back at her. Triple time? Forget it, more like galloping horses. Was that an idiom? With the way the Doctor looked at her, did it matter?

“Rose, I found a waterfall!”

She hadn’t heard it over the rustle of the leaves and the pounding of her own heart, but they turned a bend and sure enough—waterfall.

“Oh, my,” she whispered and broke free from the Doctor. “It’s stunning.”

It was more than that, it was utterly glorious. The moonlight glinted off the water, making it look a fluid, inky green she wanted to dive in. Wanted to feel sliding over her bare skin. The rocks sparkled silver, a crisp contrast to the deep greed lapping at them.

“The sap from the trees and leaves makes the water that green,” he said, suddenly right behind her.

His fingers brushed the bare nape of her neck before the Doctor took her hand again, thumb rubbing the back of it like they normally did. Except this time the normal tingle she felt at point of contact spread and settled low and warm. Rose tried to ignore it, but of course that never worked.

Ever.

And she tried not to let that pleasant hum of pleasure spread, but once again conceded her limits and knew it was pointless. So was turning and looking up at him. In the light from the double moons, his eyes hid in shadows, the mystery of them drew her closer, another step then another.

Rose knew what hid in his eyes, what mystery danced in those shadows. He didn’t scare her, not ever, but always, always drew her as a moth to a flame. And just like that moth, Rose wanted to be burned. She wanted the Doctor to burn her. With her.

“Kiss me,” she heard herself demand.

The softness of her petition barely broke the bubble surrounding them but Rose knew he heard it as clearly as—her mind blanked on a suitable idiom. What a time to blank on something like that!

But then the Doctor leaned forward and acquiesced. His cool lips pressed to hers, the lightest of touches. He pulled back but not away. His hands, those beautiful long fingers, cupped her face and held her close.

This time when he kissed her, when his lips moved against hers, when he stepped close, closer still, Rose felt it as if she shared his own experience. His kiss, not at all tentative, sparked her nerves like wildfire and spread heat and desire through her at an impossibly fast rate.

Rose clenched her fingers around his suit jacket lapels and tugged him even closer. She opened her mouth to his, and felt—everything. The slid of his tongue against hers, the cool breath on her lips. The way his fingers clench the back of her head, tilting it just enough to deepen the kiss.

It’d been such a long time since she’s been kissed, Rose almost forgot how much she enjoyed it. Or maybe kissing the Doctor woke up every nerve ending in her body and embraced this sensation. Because, and she admitted it openly, _she was kissing the Doctor!_

She moaned against his lips, standing on tiptoes to press closer. Or he moaned, pulling her to him, ever nearer.

Slowly, reluctantly, they pulled back. Breathing heavy, Rose tilted her head to fully see him. Even with the twin moons, his face remained shadowed. She licked her lips, which tasted more like _Doctor_ than chocolate or wine.

“I want to taste the chocolate from your lips,” he whispered.

Rose’s heart skipped a beat at the low, velvety quality to his voice. Was she asleep? Fantasies or not, she hadn’t actually expected this. Screw it. What was that about taking life by the horns? Or was that bull? Or was it taking life by the bull’s horns?

Either way, sounded stupidly dangerous.

She grasped this chance with two eager hands and never looked back.

“Did you take me for a meandering walk through a moonlighted dappled forest just to kiss me?”

“Yes.”

All righty then. Fine with her!

“Then let’s retrace our steps back to the TARDIS,” she whispered. And kissed him again.

Rose doubted she’d ever grow tired of kissing him. Ten, a hundred, a thousand years from this moment and she’d still want to lick chocolate cake off his lips. Taste it on his tongue. Feel his hands on her skin.

“Definitely one of your better ideas.”

The Doctor stepped back and held out his hand. Once more then meandered through the moonlighted path, hand-in-hand, Rose’s head leaning on his arm. She always thought it’d be rushed, the frantic need to feel, skin on skin, her mouth on his body, his on hers.

It wasn’t. It was a slow walk in utter peace and certainty back to their home.


End file.
